From My Desk:
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“Great Spirits,” Triia whispered. A skyship glided above the tips of the empty branches and draped the girl and her foxfellows in shadow. The hull gleamed with oil, and banners dripped from its sides, fluttering like a thousand butterfly wings. Triia’s heart beat hard in her chest. The Lord of the Botlinds could be right above her, and she hadn’t figured out even half…